


Smile

by OzQueen



Series: babysitters100 [8]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Love, Male-Female Friendship, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character(s), Relationship(s), Wedding, babysitters100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-08
Updated: 2011-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-16 19:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/pseuds/OzQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth Thomas battles feelings of doubt and jealousy as she and Richard Spier both vow to spend less time looking back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Previous parts in this series are Kitchen, Grief, Distance and Trust. This is the final installment of the Richard-Elizabeth series. The next chapter will be a separate, unrelated one-shot.
> 
> Final part in the Richard-Elizabeth series! Thank you so much to the people who have read and commented on everything so far. The response to this has just blown me away.
> 
> Again, canon features here, but it may appear slightly (or hugely) mutated. I'm also really sorry I haven't been able to fill the numerous requests for more Claudia. I just couldn't possibly fit everything in.
> 
> Thank you, again, for your encouragement.
> 
> A standing ovation for the amazing isabelquinn (on livejournal) if you would! She's read each piece several times and has been so encouraging and helpful and supportive. Thank you!

  


  
**  
**   


* * *

**1985**

Elizabeth keeps her eyes directed down at the papers on her desk. She can hear blood pulsing in her ears.

 _Don't look_ , she thinks. _Don't look, don't look._

Through the mosaic of glass tiles in her office wall, Elizabeth is clearly visible to both her boss and the man sitting opposite him, Watson Brewer.

The last thing Elizabeth wants is to get eye contact with Watson.

Watson Brewer, however, is desperate to get eye contact with Elizabeth. He enters her office once his conversation with her boss is done, stopping only to smile and exchange a brief hello with Elizabeth's secretary.

Elizabeth watches him nervously, her mouth parched and her palms sweaty, as he closes the door. She gets to her feet, her knees trembling.

"What are you doing?" she asks desperately. "Sally's bound to go spreading rumours if you start coming to see me like this."

Watson gives her a small smile. "I've stopped by your office before, Elizabeth." He takes a few careful steps towards her.

She avoids his eyes by glancing to the windows in her office, desperate to make sure no one is watching them.

"How are you?" Watson asks politely.

"Fine," she answers. "How are you?"

"Dreadful." Watson smiles. "I've tried to call you."

"I know," Elizabeth says, glancing to her phone as a reaction. "I've been busy."

They stand opposite one another, Elizabeth's desk in between them. Her heart is pulsing painfully in her breast.

"I thought everything was going well," Watson says softly.

Elizabeth swallows and looks down at her desk to avoid his eyes. "It _was_ going well," she admits.

"So what happened?" Watson tilts his head, trying to catch her eye.

Elizabeth frantically tries to put her complicated thoughts into something coherent. "I don't know," she says desperately. "I thought about having to tell my kids about you, Watson, and then I thought about everything we've already been through..." She looks up at him, finally, fighting tears. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"We've been seeing each other for almost a year," Watson points out, keeping his voice gentle. "Have you really not thought about those things before? Don't you think they might suspect something, anyway?"

Elizabeth cringes and sinks back into her chair. "Please don't ask me to change my mind," she says eventually. "It's better this way."

"Really?" Watson asks doubtfully. "It feels worse, to me."

" _Please_ don't make it harder than it has to be," Elizabeth says. Her throat feels tight and her eyes are aching.

Watson sighs and sits opposite her, watching her sorrowfully. "Do you know what I think, Elizabeth?" he asks softly. "I think you saw our anniversary approaching and you panicked. I think you started listing ridiculous differences between us so you could justify running away. And I think you're forgetting I'm not Patrick Thomas."

Elizabeth stares back at him in surprise. He seems slightly embarrassed by his outburst, which, in Elizabeth's opinion, is still rather mild. But it makes her squirm uncomfortably in her chair, and she looks down at her desk again, focusing on the photo of her four beaming children, all surrounding Louie, who looks remarkably pleased with himself.

"I love you," Watson says. "Please don't be afraid of me."

Elizabeth can feel tears burning in her eyes, and she's suddenly furious. "Why did you have to come and have this conversation in my office?" she asks, hunting around in her drawer for tissues. "The last thing I need right now is Sally to look in here and see me crying."

"I've tried to call," Watson says patiently. "You won't return my messages. I'm sure Sally's noticed how many times I've tried to reach you. Short of actually visiting your home, I wasn't sure what else to do."

Elizabeth digs a clean, but crumpled, handkerchief out of the bottom of her desk, and clenches it tightly in her fist. "I can't risk what I've built up since Patrick left," she says, and her voice cracks. "Please don't ask me to, Watson."

He looks back at her sorrowfully, but he doesn't argue. He gets to his feet. "Call me," he says gently, "if you change your mind."

She watches him go, and when he closes the door behind him, she presses the heels of her hands to her eyes and smudges the tears brimming on her lashes.

* * *

Kristy is sitting on the steps of the front porch when Elizabeth gets home.

"Where's your key?" Elizabeth asks in surprise.

"I'm not locked out," Kristy answers. "I was throwing a tennis ball for Louie, but he lost interest."

Elizabeth sits down beside her daughter, feeling exhausted. "What did you do today?"

"Nothing much," Kristy answers, looking down at the toes of her sneakers. "Mary Anne's baby-sitting for Margo and Claire Pike today, and Claudia's off with some boy." She wrinkles her nose.

"Some boy?" Elizabeth asks, noting the look of distaste on her daughter's face.

Kristy sighs. "Yeah. She likes boys now."

"You girls are all growing up too fast," Elizabeth says tiredly, rubbing her eyes.

" _I'm_ not interested in boys," Kristy says defensively. "Mary Anne's not interested in them either. Boys are gross."

Elizabeth smiles and bumps shoulders with Kristy gently. "They get better," she says.

"No they don't," Kristy answers firmly. "I don't know why anyone would want to have a boyfriend. It seems pretty stupid, to me."

"Does it?" Elizabeth asks, watching Louie emerge from beneath the rhododendrons. He wags his tail at her and wanders up to the porch to collapse at Kristy's feet.

Kristy sighs and rests her chin on her knees. "Claudia never wants to hang out anymore," she says sadly. "Everything's changing."

Elizabeth puts her arm around Kristy's shoulders and gives her a hug. "Not everything," she says.

* * *

Summer moves lazily into fall. The leaves on Bradford Court change colour and fall into the street, before they're raked into careful piles by the adults and kicked violently apart by the children.

Thanksgiving afternoon smells like ice and wet leaves.

"Ooh, you made cranberry bread," Kristy says happily, taking the plate out of Mary Anne's hands and standing aside to let the Spiers in. "Happy Thanksgiving!" she adds as an afterthought.

She leads them into the kitchen, where Elizabeth is surrounded by plates and pots and pans. The kitchen is full of warm, spice-rich aromas.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Thomas," Mary Anne says. She points to the cranberry bread Kristy is trying to find a place for. "We made cranberry bread again this year."

"Better hide it from Sam," Kristy grunts, juggling the Spiers' offering with a pile of mashed potatoes. "He ate the whole plate last year."

"Yeah," David Michael pipes up from under the table. "And Charlie ate the pumpkin pie."

Elizabeth sighs and bends down, lifting the table cloth and revealing David Michael and Louie sitting beneath the table. "What are you doing down there? What is the _dog_ doing down there?"

"It's _cold_ outside," David Michael says. "Can't he stay inside, Mom? _Please_?"

"He can go out while we're eating, thank you," Elizabeth says. "There are blankets on the back porch. He can snuggle into those. He'll be okay."

David Michael sighs and presses his face into Louie's shaggy neck. "Sorry, Louie," he says. "I'll save you some turkey."

Charlie's face appears, upside down, at the other end of the table. "Using the table as a fort, David Michael?"

"I guess," David Michael says. "But it didn't protect Louie."

Charlie laughs and pulls the nearest chair out. "Come on. We'll go and play fetch with him for a bit. We'll tire him out so he sleeps through dinner."

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," Elizabeth warns them.

The boys disappear outside with Louie in tow, and Kristy and Mary Anne escape to the living room, where Sam is sitting in front of the television.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Richard says softly.

Elizabeth smiles at him. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Need any help?"

She shakes her head, so Richard leans against the fridge and watches her. "How's work?" he asks. "I see work on the Stamford Hospital has finally been completed. It looks like it all went smoothly."

Elizabeth nods, and her mind automatically goes to Watson. She finds herself thinking of him constantly. If she's honest with herself, she thinks of Watson more often than she thinks of Patrick.

"Edie?" Richard asks softly.

"Oh," she says, shaking her head. "Just daydreaming. Work's fine. Busy. Good."

"Good," Richard says.

She catches his eye and he gives her a small smile.

"What are you thankful for this year?" she asks, placing a stack of clean plates in the middle of the table.

"Mary Anne," Richard answers, as always. "My health. Good friends."

Elizabeth smiles at him. His answers never differ much.

"And you?" he asks.

"My kids," she says. "My health, and good friends. My mom and my sisters. Louie. My job."

"Quite a list," Richard says.

"I'm lucky, aren't I?" Elizabeth asks with a grin.

But even as she sits down with her family, and Richard and Mary Anne, who may as well be family, Elizabeth can't quite lift herself to a feeling of complete happiness.

She finds herself wondering if Watson is spending Thanksgiving alone.

It's been months since she's spoken to him, but she can't help but think of him. As she looks around the table, Elizabeth suddenly realises she wants him to be sitting there with her.

* * *

 **1986**

"It's freezing out here," Richard complains, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I need the fresh air." Elizabeth sniffs and huddles deeper into her jacket. "I've been cooped up inside all day."

Their breath mists out in front of them. The night is pitch black and icy. Bradford Court is silent, though if Elizabeth listens closely, she can hear the television in the lounge room, where her kids are sprawled in front of the fire.

"Where's Mary Anne?" she asks Richard.

He checks his watch. "Baby-sitting little Jamie Newton. She should be home soon."

"They're all growing up too fast," Elizabeth grumbles quietly. "I can remember how difficult it was finding a good sitter for _Mary Anne_."

Richard gives a short laugh. "Don't remind me."

Elizabeth grins. They sit there in comfortable silence for several minutes.

"New Year's resolutions?" Richard asks eventually.

Elizabeth winces. "I don't make them anymore."

"Make one now."

Elizabeth glances sideways at him. "I resolve to stop inviting you over if you insist I make New Year's resolutions."

Richard laughs, and Elizabeth smiles. She likes making him laugh.

"What about you?" she asks.

"I don't make them either," he says, but he gives her a warm smile. "I'll make an exception this year, if you will."

Elizabeth sighs. "Go on, then."

"I'm going to stop looking backwards."

She smiles. "Good one. Me too."

"Really?" he asks.

A shiver runs up Elizabeth's spine, and she looks at him through narrowed eyes. "What?" she asks suspiciously, suddenly sensing an ulterior motive.

"Nothing," Richard answers, standing and starting down the porch steps. "It's just easier said than done, isn't it?" He smiles at her. "Goodnight, Edie."

"Goodnight," she replies. She watches him trudge through the snow back to his own house. She suddenly suspects he fell short of being totally direct with her.

Elizabeth lies awake in bed that night and wonders if Richard can see just how scared she is when it comes to looking to the future.

* * *

Elizabeth parks her car and sits with the engine idling, her gloved hands gripping the steering wheel. Wood smoke drifts slowly in the still, icy air, and the street glitters with snow that is slowly melting in the morning sun.

She draws a deep breath, cuts the engine, and fumbles with her seatbelt.

When she steps onto the sidewalk, she wonders if perhaps she should have called first. When she reaches the driveway, she's hit with a sick, nervous feeling in her stomach, and she wonders if this is really a good idea after all. When she passes the row of frozen rose bushes by the front door, her knees start trembling, and beneath all of her wintery layers, she starts to sweat.

When she rings the doorbell, she swallows and draws in a shaky breath.

Good and bad, happiness and fear are all weighing heavily upon her, trying to unbalance her.

When Watson answers the door, his face shows surprise and delight.

Elizabeth feels the bad and the fear melt away.

"Hi," she breathes shyly, giving him a smile. "Happy New Year."

He smiles back at her and lets the door swing wide open. "Happy New Year..."

They stand there for a long moment, looking at one another.

"Are you busy?" she asks softly.

He takes a breath and looks over his shoulder. "My kids are here," he says. He holds his hand out. "Come and meet them."

Elizabeth slips her glove off before she takes his hand and steps into the warmth of the house. "Watson," she whispers, "I'm really sorry to just show up like this, but I had to see you and tell you I'd made a mistake."

"It wasn't a mistake," Watson says softly, closing the door quietly behind her. He squeezes her hand. "I think we both needed time. Don't you?"

She bites her lip and looks further into the house. She can hear the high-pitched, never-ending, rambling chatter of a young girl somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"It's been so long since I even spoke to you," she whispers. "I thought maybe you'd found someone else..."

Watson leans forward and kisses her gently. "I don't care how long it's been," he says. "There's no one else, Elizabeth."

* * *

Elizabeth still waits to tell her children about Watson. She wants to be sure things between the two of them haven't really changed. She wants to be sure that their relationship will work, now that it's separated from the raw aftermath of divorces. There are no excuses to hide behind.

It doesn't take her long to know for sure she has nothing to worry about.

Watson is constantly on her mind, and for the first time in a long time, Elizabeth feels afloat with happiness.

She buys pizza again, but this time she focuses on the four young faces at the table with her, instead of the many imperfections in their small home. She ignores the bickering about anchovies, and she focuses upon the warm little glow of happiness in her stomach.

Her heart does a little dance in her chest as she clears her throat.

Her children look at her expectantly.

"We're having a guest for dinner tomorrow night," Elizabeth says.

Kristy immediately narrows her eyes. "Who?"

Elizabeth drums her fingernails on the table in a display of slight nerves. She focuses on the happy little glow again. "His name is Watson," she says. "He's very important to me, and I want him to meet you all."

Sam stops chewing his pizza. He frowns and swallows, his eyes watering slightly at the effort of it. "Are you dating him, Mom?"

"Yes," Elizabeth mutters, feeling a flutter of embarrassment.

Charlie wolf-whistles softly, and David Michael giggles.

Kristy eyes her mother suspiciously. "Who is this guy?" she asks. "How long have you known him? Does he know about all of us?"

Elizabeth sighs and wipes her fingers on her napkin. "I've known him long enough, Kristy. I want you all to know I'd never do anything to disrupt what we have." She gazes at all of her children seriously. "I don't want any of us to get hurt again."

"We know, Mom," Charlie says softly. "He must be all right, if you like him." He gives her a small smile, and she returns it gratefully.

Elizabeth can't stop fidgeting.

She's not worried about Charlie at all. Sam doesn't look particularly thrilled about things, but he's making an effort, and he exchanged a look and a helpless smile with Charlie when Watson made a pathetic joke about the potatoes. David Michael is shy, but he peers up at Watson now and then, quietly hopeful for attention.

Kristy, however, seems determined not to like him, and she's taking the cordial behaviour of her brothers as a personal insult.

Elizabeth gives her a warning glare as Kristy snippily replies to Watson's comments on the baseball.

"I thought you liked baseball, Kristy," Elizabeth says, and she knows Kristy understands the underlying threat in her tone. _Behave yourself_.

Kristy shrugs and turns back to her dinner. Elizabeth is watchful enough to know Charlie has just kicked his younger sister under the table.

Kristy glares at him, and he raises his eyebrows slightly.

Elizabeth looks towards Watson apologetically, and he smiles. She relaxes somewhat. She can see what he's thinking.

 _This is going to take time, and that's okay_.

* * *

"It's a heap of junk!" Sam says, laughing hysterically.

Charlie grins and shrugs. "I don't care. It's mine."

Elizabeth pats the rusted bonnet of Charlie's new car. "It's a little... worn," she says, searching for a better word.

Sam roars with laughter again. "You should ride in it, Mom. It feels like you're being driven in a tractor."

"If you want something better than this, better start saving your pennies now," Charlie says, grinning at Sam.

Sam's face falls as he realises Charlie's right.

Elizabeth grins and puts an arm around her eldest son. "Care to chauffeur me across town?" she asks.

"Sure," Charlie says happily. He wrenches the passenger door open and waves Elizabeth in, just as Kristy and David Michael appear.

"What is _that_?" Kristy asks with disdain.

"It's my car," Charlie says.

David Michael is sticky with strawberry ice-cream. "It looks old," he says. "Does it work?"

"Of course it works," Charlie answers. "I drove it here, didn't I?"

"Barely," Sam snickers.

"If any of you want Charlie to drive you around, you'd better be nice about this car," Elizabeth calls from the passenger seat.

"I like it," David Michael says, though Elizabeth doesn't think he needs any prompting to be positive. "I like the orange."

"That's rust, dude," Sam says.

"Got a name for it, Charlie?" Kristy asks, kicking the front fender.

"Watch it," Sam says. "Don't kick it apart, Kristy."

"I'm sure something will come up," Charlie says airily.

"It's a pile of junk," Sam says.

"Rust bucket," Kristy agrees.

Charlie shifts the car into reverse and grins at his mother. "I'll take you to Watson's," he says. "I want to show this Junk Bucket off to his swanky neighbours."

Elizabeth laughs, and Charlie steers the car out into Bradford Court.

* * *

"Mom!" Kristy bursts into the kitchen, red-faced and excited. "Check it out." She thrusts a flier under Elizabeth's nose.

Elizabeth goes cross-eyed trying to read it, until she takes the flier from Kristy's hand and holds it at a readable distance. "The Baby-sitters Club?" she asks. "What's The Baby-sitters Club?"

"It's my idea," Kristy breathes, flopping into a chair at the end of the table. "Mary Anne, Claudia, Stacey and I – Stacey's another girl from school – we're going to hold meetings three times a week, and parents can call us and set up baby-sitting appointments! Remember how you couldn't get a sitter for David Michael the other night? Well, that won't happen again, because..."

Elizabeth tunes out as Kristy rambles on and on about the club. She smiles in all the right places, and when Kristy pauses for breath, she cuts in.

"Have you got time for this?" she asks. "I don't want this interfering with your schoolwork."

"It won't," Kristy promises.

"Does this mean you'll sit for Karen and Andrew sometimes?" Elizabeth asks casually.

Kristy's face immediately turns into a sour frown. "No!" she says angrily. "I told you, I don't like them."

"You haven't _met_ them yet," Elizabeth says patiently.

"I don't want to," Kristy mumbles.

Her good mood appears crashed, and Elizabeth feels guilty. She leans over and kisses the top of Kristy's head.

"This sounds like an excellent idea," she says, holding the flier up. "You'll make a business woman yet, Kristin Amanda Thomas."

Kristy beams, her irritation forgotten. "Could you make us some copies? Please? We want to drop them around the neighbourhood."

Elizabeth eyes the flier. "Whose phone number is that?"

"Claudia's," Kristy says. "She has her own line. Could I have my own–?"

"No, you couldn't," Elizabeth interrupts with a smile. "But I'll make the copies for you."

* * *

Elizabeth stands amongst the rhododendrons by the fence and waves to Richard as he pulls into the driveway.

"Hello," he says in surprise. "Are you waiting for me?"

"Yes," Elizabeth says in a low voice. "Come here."

Richard eyes her suspiciously. "Why?"

She sighs impatiently. "Just come here, Richard."

He walks over to her and looks down at her over the fence.

"Mary Anne's inside, waiting very anxiously to have a discussion with you," Elizabeth says knowingly.

Richard pales. "What about?" he asks, looking flustered.

"A baby-sitting club, or something," Elizabeth says. "Listen, it's very important to the girls, and I know you're Mary Anne's father and this really has nothing to do with me, but I want you to know I think she's extremely responsible and that I think this is a _great_ idea."

"What's a great idea?" Richard asks suspiciously.

"Go and talk to her," Elizabeth says, widening her eyes innocently. "And the two of us? We never spoke. But please, Richard, consider what this would mean to Mary Anne."

"Elizabeth," Richard says sharply. "What are you talking about?"

She smiles at him. "Go inside," she says. "Your very responsible twelve-year-old daughter wants a word."

Richard looks annoyed and worried. He sighs and loosens his tie slightly before he turns towards the house.

Elizabeth quietly crosses her fingers for both Kristy and Mary Anne.

When she sees the rapid peppering of flashlight-fire between their windows later that night, she smiles.

* * *

It turns out Elizabeth is the first client to call Kristy's new club, but her motives aren't entirely innocent. She requests a sitter for Karen and Andrew Brewer, figuring that even if Kristy refuses to sit for them, one of her friends will. She's sure that eventually, they'll convince Kristy that Karen and Andrew – and therefore Watson – aren't that bad after all.

"That's rather deceptive," Watson says, but he sounds admiring.

Elizabeth smiles at him. "I want her to like you. And Kristy loves kids, and I think she'd love _your_ kids. She'll come around, Watson. She's just scared."

"I know," Watson answers, smiling back at her. "You were scared at first, too."

* * *

Elizabeth bites her lip and eases her shoes off, rubbing her feet. "I've been walking _everywhere_ today," she complains. "Nobody told me I'd have to go on that stupid tour of the new building site." She winces and rubs her toes, glaring down at her shoes.

Watson sits on the couch beside her. "Bad day, then?"

"It's getting better," Elizabeth says, smiling at him. "Though I can't stay long. I told David Michael I'd be home to help him with his homework tonight."

Watson kisses her and she curls into him, facing the television with a contented sigh.

"How was your day?" she asks.

"Fine," he answers. "I didn't do much, today. I was in the garden for most of the afternoon."

"Thinking about what?" Elizabeth asks sleepily. She closes her eyes, her cheek comfortably padded against Watson's shoulder.

"Dandelions, for a long time," Watson says. "They're coming up everywhere. Then I thought about you."

"Still second to dandelions, am I?" Elizabeth asks with a smile.

Watson kisses the top of her head. "Not at all," he answers quietly. "I was thinking about asking you to marry me."

Elizabeth's eyes fly open, and she sits up. "Don't joke about that," she says immediately.

Watson looks back at her in surprise. "I'm not joking," he says. "I know you never think my jokes are funny, Elizabeth, but they're in better taste than this." He grins at her, but she's too astounded to smile back.

He clears his throat and assumes an expression of seriousness again. "Anyway," he says. "There's no ring, and no bended knee, but I'm asking..."

She blinks, and she can hear her heart pounding her chest. "I have to think about it," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

He kisses her gently and squeezes her hand, and eventually she sinks against him again and puts her head back on his shoulder.

"I do love you, you know," she says after a while.

"I know," he answers. "I love you too."

* * *

When Elizabeth gets home, David Michael is stretched out on the floor beside Charlie, reciting his multiplication tables.

Sam is sitting on the couch behind them with a dreamy expression on his face.

"What's wrong with Sam?" Elizabeth asks, clicking her fingers in front of her son's face with a smile. He blinks and grins at her.

"He met Stacey," David Michael says. "He loves her."

"I do not!" Sam shoots back at him.

Charlie grins and points to David Michael's math book. "Eight times nine, David Michael..."

David Michael frowns down at the pages in front of him.

Elizabeth sinks onto the couch. "Where's Kristy?"

"Homework," Sam replies. "Upstairs."

Elizabeth smiles at Sam. "Stacey's pretty, then?"

Sam gives her a dazed grin. "I guess."

"Did you go to Watson's?" David Michael asks.

"For a little while," Elizabeth admits. "He said to say hello."

David Michael smiles and turns back to his math book.

After a moment, Kristy appears, flopping into the vacant arm chair.

"How was baby-sitting?" Elizabeth asks.

Kristy glowers. "Pet-sitting, more like," she grumbles. "Some people really ought to learn how to read. Our flier doesn't say anything about pet-sitting."

"You pet-sit for Louie," David Michael says cheerfully.

Charlie points to David Michel's math homework again, and he sighs and leans over it, searching for something which will clue him in to the answer for eight times nine.

"Louie's different," Kristy says distractedly, taking the remote from Sam, who is still daydreaming. She starts flipping through the channels.

Elizabeth finds herself fidgeting. Suddenly she feels like she's keeping a huge secret from her children, and she doesn't want to. She doesn't feel guilty about it – she just wants to be honest.

"You kids like Watson, don't you?" she asks after a while.

"I do," David Michael replies enthusiastically.

"Sure," Charlie says.

Sam pulls himself out of his trance. "He's okay," he says. "You can tell he likes you, Mom. He looks at you all soppy."

"Speaking of soppy," Charlie says, looking over his shoulder at his younger brother, "what was that line you gave Stacey as she was leaving?"

Sam's mouth drops open. "I didn't say anything!"

"Kristy?" Elizabeth interrupts.

Kristy glances at her mother, looking rather upset. "He's okay," she mumbles after a moment. She fixes her eyes back on the television again.

Elizabeth looks around the room helplessly. "He wants to marry me," she says. "I haven't said yes, yet, but I haven't said no, either."

Kristy's mouth drops open. "No way!" she says vehemently. "Look what happened _last_ time you got married!"

"Kristy!" Charlie says. He turns to Elizabeth. He looks a little pale, and suddenly Elizabeth seriously doubts her decision to tell them anything.

"That's great, Mom," Charlie says, giving her a small smile. "Watson makes you happy. Congratulations."

"Yeah," Sam says, moving a little closer to Elizabeth. "I guess that's okay with me. I mean, if you said yes. I guess..."

David Michael eyes her critically. "When would you get married?"

"Well, I haven't quite decided I will, yet," Elizabeth says, aware that her voice sounds rather small. She gives David Michael a smile. "Not for a while. I promise."

David Michael seems happy with this. He turns back to Charlie. "Eighty two," he says.

Charlie shakes his head. "Try again."

Kristy slips out of her armchair and disappears upstairs.

Elizabeth watches her go, and her heart sinks.

* * *

 **1987**

"I don't know what's wrong with Mary Anne, these past couple of days," Richard says, sounding frustrated and worried. "She's not very talkative."

"She and Kristy have had an argument," Elizabeth murmurs, reading the newspaper at Richard's kitchen table. "I can tell, because Kristy's keeping her blinds closed."

"Oh," Richard says in surprise.

"I think maybe Claudia and Stacey are arguing as well," Elizabeth muses, turning a page. "None of them appear to be talking."

"How do you _know_ this?" Richard asks, sitting opposite her and sliding a mug of coffee towards her.

"It's obvious," Elizabeth says, rolling her eyes. "Four twelve-year-old girls trying to run a baby-sitting business? I'm surprised it took them this long to have a falling out."

"Stacey's thirteen," Richard says distractedly. "So there are only three twelve-year-old girls."

"That's a minor point," Elizabeth says, grinning at him. "Though I'm impressed at the useless information you've absorbed since this club started."

Richard sighs and lifts his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "If I hear about Claudia and Stacey's late curfew again..."

Elizabeth laughs and takes a sip of her coffee. "It wouldn't hurt," she says, "to ease up on Mary Anne a little." She smiles at Richard and turns back to the newspaper.

* * *

Elizabeth has never been much of a gardener, but since dating Watson, she's suddenly found herself much more interested in perennials and flowering shrubs.

She pulls weeds, enjoying the way the sun feels on her back, enjoying the satisfaction of physical work. Nearby, Charlie and Sam are tinkering under the Junk Bucket's hood. Sam is snickering at the state of the fanbelt.

Elizabeth looks up as the sound of female laughter floats over the fence. She can see Richard standing on his front porch. Raising herself a little higher, she can see the top of a blonde head. Richard laughs and smiles, and the blonde head moves away.

Elizabeth stands up, trying not to be obvious about snooping.

Richard, however, does not look towards his neighbour. He is still smiling after the blonde woman who is heading towards her car.

The look on his face is scarily-reminiscent of the dazed look Sam gets when Stacey comes by.

Elizabeth bites her lip and turns her attention back to pulling weeds from the garden bed. An uncomfortable prickle of jealousy moves down her spine, and she frowns and tries to shake it off, not entirely sure why she felt it in the first place.

* * *

Elizabeth goes to Richard's house the next Saturday, intent on asking who his blonde visitor is. Elizabeth has seen her twice now, and the silly jealousy has rippled down her back each time. She decides to mask her visit under concern for the continuing argument between Kristy and Mary Anne, which is yet to resolve itself.

Elizabeth has every confidence the girls will work it out, but it's a nice cover story for a seemingly-important visit to Richard.

Elizabeth, however, is too late. Richard is pouring coffee for the blonde woman, who is sitting at the kitchen table in Elizabeth's usual chair, a dreamy expression on her face.

Elizabeth hovers in the kitchen doorway. Suddenly she feels like an intruder in Richard's kitchen, and a tumultuous wave of jealousy and resentment roils around in her stomach.

"This is Sharon," Richard says, motioning towards the stranger. "She and I went to high school together."

"A _long_ time ago," Sharon jokes, smiling at Elizabeth.

"This is my neighbour, Elizabeth," Richard says, smiling back at Sharon.

Elizabeth reaches over rather cautiously and shakes hands with Sharon.

"Coffee?" Richard asks.

Elizabeth desperately wants to say yes, but suddenly the thought of sitting in Richard's kitchen is, for the first time ever, unappealing. "No, thank you," she says. "I wanted to talk about this argument between the girls, but I'm sure it'll work out."

"Mary Anne seems much happier, lately," Richard answers. "I thought the fight was over."

"Oh, maybe it is," Elizabeth answers.

"You have a daughter Mary Anne's age?" Sharon asks.

Elizabeth smiles, though she's unaccountably irritated by the woman sitting in the chair she usually sits in. "Kristy," she says, nodding.

"My daughter's upstairs with Mary Anne now," Sharon says happily. "I'm so glad there are other girls around here she can be friends with."

"Sharon and her children have just moved back to Stoneybrook from California," Richard explains, setting a mug of coffee down in front of Sharon. Elizabeth is relieved to see he hasn't given her the green mug _she_ usually drinks from.

"We're in the old farmhouse out on Burnt Hill Road," Sharon says. She gives Richard a starry-eyed smile.

Elizabeth draws a breath and backs away. "I have to go," she says. "I'm glad the girls have sorted things out."

"Me too," Richard answers.

"Bye," Elizabeth calls, already in the front hall. She closes the door before Richard can answer.

* * *

"What's wrong?" Watson asks.

Elizabeth looks up, somewhat distractedly. "Nothing," she answers. She turns back to her lunch, but she doesn't feel hungry.

"Are you sure?" Watson presses. "It _seems_ like something's wrong..."

Elizabeth sighs, and he smiles at her.

"It's _Richard_ ," Elizabeth says, irrational annoyance and frustration welling up inside her once again. "I've barely seen him at all lately, and it's all because of Sharon."

"Maybe it's a good idea for him to extend his social circle a little," Watson says.

Elizabeth shoots him a look, fairly certain she's said those exact words at some point or another. "Well, Sharon is wrong for Richard's social circle," she says. "They're too different."

"You're not exactly similar to Richard Spier, you know," Watson says.

"That's not the point!" Elizabeth says, jabbing her fork into her stir-fried beef. "She doesn't know what he's been through."

"I'm sure he'll tell her, if he wants to," Watson says gently. "Elizabeth, I'm sure you're still very important to him."

Elizabeth drops her fork and slumps back in her seat. She can feel the tips of her ears turning red. "That's not what I'm worried about," she mutters.

Deep down, however, Elizabeth knows that Watson has unveiled what's really concerning her: That suddenly, Richard doesn't need her anymore.

* * *

The second time Watson asks Elizabeth to marry him, he has an engagement ring. The diamond glitters prettily against a velvet box, and Elizabeth's heart pounds painfully when she looks at it.

But it's not the ring that convinces her. It's the shy, earnest, hopeful look in Watson's eyes.

"Yes," she says.

* * *

Elizabeth and Watson are both nervous. She toys with her fork, and he keeps tugging at the ends of his sleeves, as though they're determined to crawl away up his arms. Charlie keeps glancing to them both in amusement, as though he knows exactly what's going on.

Sam and David Michael are oblivious; much more interested in the cartons of Chinese takeout. Kristy glowers down at her plate, boycotting the takeout and choosing instead to eat a sandwich.

Finally, desperate to relieve herself of the tension, worry and fear, Elizabeth clears her throat and gets shakily to her feet. Watson stands beside her immediately, and Elizabeth can tell that _all_ of her children know what's about to happen, despite the fact she's not wearing the diamond Watson gave her.

"Watson and I are engaged," Elizabeth says, and despite her nervousness, she feels alive with warmth as she says the words aloud. "I've agreed to marry him."

Charlie and Sam both stand to congratulate them, but Kristy throws her chair back immediately. It clatters to the floor and she flees upstairs. David Michael looks after her in surprise.

"Congratulations," Charlie says after a moment. Kristy's bedroom door slams above them.

"Yeah, congratulations," Sam says. He grins. "We were wondering when you'd cave, Mom."

"She'll come around," Watson comforts Elizabeth quietly. "It's a big change for everyone. We don't have to rush into anything."

"I know," Elizabeth answers. She drains the sink and leans against the counter.

"Really," Watson promises. "Things will be okay."

Elizabeth smiles at him and kisses his cheek, thinking about how wonderfully patient and understanding he is.

"I'll go," Watson says, taking her hand. "You should talk to her. You should have time with all of them to answer their questions. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay." Elizabeth follows him to the front door. Watson calls goodnight to the boys, and David Michael hurries into the front hall in his pyjamas to say goodbye.

"You'll be back, right?" he asks seriously.

"I'll be back," Watson promises.

David Michael beams at him.

"Bed, mister," Elizabeth says, smiling at her youngest son. "I'll be up in a minute."

Watson kisses her goodnight again, and Elizabeth closes the door quietly behind him.

"Come on," she says to David Michael. She leads him upstairs and makes sure he starts the process of going to bed, before she turns to Kristy's closed door and knocks gently.

"Go away," Kristy says miserably.

"Two minutes?" Elizabeth requests. When she doesn't get an answer, she eases the door open.

Kristy is face-down on her bed.

Elizabeth sits beside her and pats her back gently. "I know it's hard, sweetie," she says, feeling guilty. "But it'll be okay."

"Why does everything have to change?" Kristy asks, her voice muffled.

"This is a good change," Elizabeth says.

"It's not just you and Watson," Kristy sniffs. "It's Mary Anne, too."

Elizabeth tugs gently on Kristy's ponytail, so she rolls over. "What about Mary Anne?"

"She has a new best friend," Kristy says bitterly. "Dawn Schafer. They hang out together all the time, and they're always giggling and whispering because Dawn's mom and Mr. Spier went to high school together."

Kristy wipes her eyes, looking furious with herself for crying.

Elizabeth's heart is beating quickly.

"I hate Dawn," Kristy mutters. "She's stealing Mary Anne away from me. And Watson is stealing you away from us, and everything is going to go wrong..."

"Watson isn't stealing me away," Elizabeth promises gently. "You, Charlie, Sam and David Michael will always, _always_ come first. But I love Watson, Kristy, and he makes me happy. I think we could all be happy together. He's not trying to split any of us up." She strokes Kristy's hair gently. "And Mary Anne will always be your best friend," she says confidently. "You've been through too much together to have someone else come in and ruin it. But you should remember that you're not the only person who can make Mary Anne happy."

Kristy wipes her eyes on her sleeve and looks up at Elizabeth. "I don't know," she says doubtfully.

"Trust me," Elizabeth says with a wry smile. "There are three or four people you're going to meet in your lifetime, Kristy, and you'll have a special connection with them you won't find anywhere else. Mary Anne is one of those people."

She leans over and kisses Kristy's forehead. "It'll be okay," she promises.

Kristy sits up. "I'm sorry I fought with you and Watson," she says miserably.

"I know." Elizabeth sits up on Kristy's bed, against the pillows, and she looks through the window towards the Spiers' house, which is dark. She thinks about what she just said to Kristy, who is jealous of Dawn Schafer moving in on her friendship with Mary Anne Spier.

She smiles to herself and repeats her own advice in her head – switching some of the names.

"Sometimes I say things without thinking first," Kristy admits after a while.

Elizabeth rests her cheek against the top of Kristy's head. "I do that, too," she says. "We're a lot alike."

"So why do you need Watson?" Kristy asks desperately. "Why do you need anyone? We've been this long without Dad and we've done okay."

Elizabeth thinks back to all the support she's had from Richard and Watson over the years. She thinks back to the loneliness and the long nights. She remembers how terrifying it was, being solely responsible for her children and trying to shelter them from any further hurt.

"We've done okay," Elizabeth agrees quietly. "But I think we'll be able to do better, with Watson. He makes me happy."

Kristy sighs, and her breath is hot against Elizabeth's shoulder. "I guess I can deal with it, then," she says after a moment. "I guess I can get used to the idea if it means you'll be happy."

Elizabeth grins and puts her arms around her daughter. "Thank you," she says graciously, because she knows that Kristy has inherited her father's stubbornness, too.

But there is a big difference, as Kristy is better at defeating her shortcomings than Patrick ever was.

* * *

As summer wanes on and the date to her wedding draws closer and closer, Elizabeth realises that one of the things she is most terrified about is leaving Bradford Court.

She sits on the front porch at night and listens to the cicadas and the sprinkler systems and she feels utterly, overwhelmingly at home.

One night, as she sits on the front porch and looks around at everything she'll miss, Richard crosses the lawn and sits beside her.

"Hi," Elizabeth says in surprise.

"Hello."

They sit in silence for a while, but Elizabeth can't feel comfortable. She fidgets and looks sideways at him. "How's Sharon?" she asks.

Richard smiles. "She's fine," he answers softly. "How's Watson?"

"Fine."

Richard nods, and watches the Pikes' cat slink along the Kishis' fence and disappear under the hedge. "You know," he says quietly, "I didn't like Watson much at first."

"You didn't?" Elizabeth asks. "Why not?" She sits stiffly, defensive and worried.

"I wasn't sure he was right for you," Richard admits. "I was worried about what would happen if things went wrong. I didn't want you to lose what you had built up after Patrick left."

"I can look after myself," Elizabeth says, but she feels grateful all the same.

"I know you can," Richard says. "You can look after yourself and everyone else at the same time, but I couldn't help but feel a little suspicious, all the same. When the two of you parted and decided to go separate ways, I was a little relieved."

"You were?" Elizabeth asks.

"Only for a moment." Richard gives her a sheepish smile. "But you were rather miserable without him. In the end, I was glad when I saw you were together again."

"I'm suspicious of Sharon," Elizabeth whispers guiltily.

"I know," Richard answers with a smile.

"I'm not hiding it very well, am I?"

"Oh, I only know you're suspicious because of what I went through when you met Watson," Richard admits. "I felt like I was losing someone very special to me."

Elizabeth clears her throat, which is aching, and then nudges him. "Don't be stupid," she says.

Richard chuckles and gives a soft sigh. They sit there in silence for a while, listening to the night time sounds of Bradford Court.

"I hope my next neighbours are a little quieter," Richard says after a moment.

Elizabeth shoves him, and he laughs.

* * *

"I'm going to have to talk to Patrick," Elizabeth says to Watson one evening.

He looks up at her in surprise. "Why?"

Elizabeth bites her lip and looks down at the paperwork scattered across the table. "Because my house isn't _my_ house. It's _our_ house. I need him to sign his half over to me before I can sell it."

"Oh." Watson looks annoyed, and Elizabeth can feel a matching expression on her own face.

"I bet this is why he did it," she says, glaring down at the faded ink of Patrick's signature. "I bet he did it so he could keep tabs on me. I bet he's been sitting in California for the past seven years _laughing_ about the fact I'm still living in a house with a leaky basement and broken guttering."

"I think that might be a stretch," Watson says. "But he's certainly left you in a bit of a mess."

"A bit of a mess," Elizabeth glowers. "That's an understatement."

"Do you want to get it over with?" Watson asks. "You can use my study."

Elizabeth kisses his cheek and shuts herself away in Watson's study, which is the size of the kitchen in her house on Bradford Court.

She calls 4-1-1 and manages to find Patrick with relatively little trouble. He answers the phone cheerfully, and to her dismay, there is still an ache of longing in her chest.

"It's Liz," she says softly. "Hi."

"Liz!" He sounds pleased to hear from her, which somehow makes things worse. "How are you?"

"Fine," she answers. "How are you?"

"Can't complain," Patrick answers airily.

Elizabeth waits for him to ask after the kids, but the silence between them becomes deafening.

"How's your wife?" she asks.

"Oh." Patrick gives a nervous laugh. "No, I'm divorced. Again. But I'm seeing someone else, now."

"Congratulations," Elizabeth answers dryly.

Patrick clears his throat. "Anyway," he says. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to sell the house," Elizabeth says, and she feels a new pang at the thought of it. She remembers how happy she and Patrick first were when they moved into that house, and the thought of saying goodbye to it is suddenly very difficult.

"Why?" Patrick asks suspiciously.

"Why does it matter?" Elizabeth asks, not bothering to hide her irritation. "I need to sell it, and so I need a signature from you. You'll still get half the money from the sale, if that's what's worrying you."

Patrick sighs. "I don't know, Liz."

"You don't know?" she asks incredulously. "You've _got_ to be joking. I swear to God, Patrick, if you make this any harder than it needs to be, I'll drag you backwards through the legal system until your hair stands on end."

"Oh?" Patrick laughs, and anger flares up in Elizabeth's chest.

"Oh? Yes, oh!" she snaps. "I'm pretty sure I can find a lawyer or two to help me out..."

Patrick suddenly clears his throat again. "Look," he says, "let me fly out there and take a look at the house."

"Don't you dare," Elizabeth says. "If you want to keep the house, you buy my half of it, but you stay the hell away from here. I don't care if you've planned this all along; if you've kept your name attached to here in case you decided you wanted to come back one day. As far as I'm concerned, that door is closed. Got it?"

Patrick is silent for a long time. "Fine," he mutters eventually. "Fine. I'll sign whatever papers you send me."

"Thank you," Elizabeth says, loathing the fact she's thanking him for anything. "And the kids are all _great_ , by the way." She slams the phone down and slumps back against the padded leather of Watson's chair.

Her heart is racing, and she feels miserable, until she looks at the photo of Watson, Karen and Andrew on the desk. Suddenly she remembers why she's selling the house at all. She smiles and closes her eyes, relief and happiness finally seeping in to replace the anger and fear.

* * *

Elizabeth sits at the table and pretends not to listen as Kristy begs Charlie for help.

"We'd pay you!" Kristy says desperately. "A dollar each way. Two dollars per meeting! You'd just have to drop me at Claudia's and then pick me up half an hour later. Or you could stay and hang out with Janine or something..."

Charlie clears his throat. "How many members in your club?" he asks, polishing an apple on his shirt.

"Five," Kristy says proudly. "Me, Mary Anne, Claudia, Stacey and Dawn."

"Uh-huh," Charlie says. "How much money do you put into your dues every week?"

"A dollar each," Kristy says, and her voice has the tiniest falter in it.

Elizabeth grins down at her newspaper, but doesn't say anything.

"So you're willing to pay me two dollars per meeting, three times a week, to drive you back and forth between Watson's and Claudia's?" Charlie asks. "That's six dollars a week. But your budget is only five dollars a week..."

Kristy bounces on her toes. " _Please_?" she squeaks.

Charlie sighs. "I'll do it for fifty cents a trip, okay?" he asks. "To cover gas, and my pain and suffering from having to regularly spend time with _you_ on the drive over."

"Shut up," Kristy says, shoving him. Then she squeals and bounces again. " _Thank_ you, Charlie!"

"Don't mention it," Charlie says, inspecting his apple. "Go and do your math homework. I mean, seriously, Kristy –"

Kristy whirls away, immediately heading for Mary Anne's.

Elizabeth looks up at Charlie and smiles. "Thank you, Charlie."

He grins and shrugs. "She's worried about moving," he says. "If this will rid us all of at least one complaint on that list of hers, it'll be worth it."

Elizabeth smiles, and Charlie squeezes her shoulder on the way through to the living room.

* * *

Elizabeth shuts herself away in Watson's study, listening to the sounds of feet tramping through the house. Crates of wine and glasses are carried back and forth, and in the back yard, the white folds of the marquee are beginning to take shape.

She watches through the window, and butterflies clatter around in her stomach.

Watson finds her half an hour later, and she's tear-streaked and sniffling.

"Cold feet?" Watson asks with a smile.

"No," Elizabeth says, wiping her eyes.

Watson sits against his desk and takes her hand. "What's wrong, Elizabeth?"

"I'm just nervous," she says. She pauses for a moment, but the words leap out anyway, almost against her will. "I wasn't this nervous when I married Patrick."

"The folly of youth," Watson answers with a smile, and Elizabeth is relieved to see she hasn't insulted him.

"I was pregnant with Charlie," she says, wiping her eyes again. "I was so excited about becoming a mother I didn't really think about what could go wrong."

"You're not supposed to think about what could go wrong," Watson says gently. "Not on your wedding day."

"I think I am," Elizabeth says. "I have four kids to think of. I have to think about how they'll be affected if things go wrong."

"You'll have six children to think of, come Saturday," Watson says, smiling. He runs his thumb across her knuckles. "I know it's scary, Elizabeth," he says gently. "But I'll look after you. And I want you to look after me, too. And Karen and Andrew."

Elizabeth gives a small laugh and wipes her eyes again. "I will."

Watson kisses her hand. "Do you want to marry me?" he asks.

"Yes," Elizabeth answers. She leans her head against his arm. "Yes, I do."

"Then you'd better come and fix the seating arrangement," Watson says. "I can't figure it out at all."

Elizabeth kisses his cheek. "I love you," she says. "I'm nervous, but I can't wait to marry you, Watson Brewer."

Watson looks ridiculously pleased by this. He kisses her hand again. "I can't wait, either," he says.

* * *

"Charlie!" David Michael looks up at his brother helplessly. "I've forgotten, again."

Charlie kneels and pulls David Michael's rumpled tie out of his collar. "Let me do it for you this time, and we'll work on it again later, okay?"

"Okay," David Michael agrees, giving up on the idea of knotting the tie himself. "I tried, though."

"I know you did," Charlie says, frowning down at the lump David Michael has squeezed into the tie already.

Elizabeth watches them, butterflies knocking around in her stomach. The curtains are drawn and the room is dim, but she can hear the crowd of guests murmuring and moving about in the garden beyond the windows.

"Where's Sam?" she asks after a moment.

"He went to find Watson." Kristy nervously smooths out an imaginary wrinkle in her dress. "Where's Karen?"

"Busy terrifying Andrew with stories about the creepy neighbour," Charlie mutters, putting the tie over David Michael's head and gently fixing it beneath his collar.

"Go and find Sam, Kristy?" Elizabeth requests. Her mouth is dry. "I want to talk to you all."

Kristy disappears, looking relieved at having something to do.

"Is this the part where we run off?" Charlie jokes. "I'm not sure the Junk Bucket is the best vehicle for a getaway, Mom."

She grins at him. "Shut up," she says, and Charlie laughs.

Kristy returns with Sam, and he closes the door.

"Are we escaping, then?" he asks with a grin. "Better go and start the Junk Bucket," he tells Charlie.

"Oh, enough!" Elizabeth cries, but she's smiling. The butterflies in her stomach have calmed slightly. She ushers her children around her and looks at them, suddenly strangely wistful for the days she could protect them all with nothing more than a flashlight and a soothing voice in the middle of the night. Fears were so imaginary then.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" Sam asks, looking nervous.

"No," Elizabeth says, but she sniffs and blinks back tears.

"It'll be okay, Mom," Kristy says. "We'll look after you if things go wrong."

"Not that they will," Charlie says hurriedly.

"No," Kristy agrees.

Elizabeth smiles and draws a deep breath, urging her tears back. "Watson will look after us," she says. "But just in case – _just in case_ – I want to remind you all that we're pretty good at looking after ourselves, now. Aren't we?"

"Sure," Charlie and Sam echo.

"Yup," David Michael says brightly. "And I'll look after Louie as well."

Elizabeth grins at him. "You can look after Louie," she agrees. "But I don't want any of you to worry. Watson thinks the world of all of you..." She feels herself getting teary. "Things are going to be okay," she says, and she looks around at the four of them and they seem so grown up and concerned for her she can't help but cry.

"Jeez, Mom," Sam mutters. "You're not supposed to have mascara streaks down your face when you walk down the aisle."

She laughs helplessly and wipes at the tears on her cheeks. "We'll be okay," she says again. "We've been through so much already. I'm sure there's nothing we can't handle."

"Witches," David Michael says doubtfully, and he glances in the direction of Mrs. Porter's house.

"Karen is going to take some handling," Charlie mutters, and he puts his arm around his mother and gives her a gentle squeeze. "We're okay, Mom," he says. "Stop worrying so much."

"It's just a habit," Elizabeth sighs, wiping her eyes.

"Out!" Kristy orders her brothers. "I need to help Mom fix her makeup."

The boys obediently retreat. Sam looks relieved, though he gives his mother a sheepish grin before he closes the door behind him.

Kristy turns to her mother helplessly. "I don't know how to fix your makeup," she says. "Should I get Nannie?"

Elizabeth laughs and dabs at her eyes. "No, I can do it. It's all right." She puts an arm around Kristy and kisses the top of her head. "I know this has been hard, Kristy. It took me a long time to trust Watson, too."

Kristy looks slightly guilty. "I just thought we were doing okay on our own," she mumbles.

"We were," Elizabeth says, and she lifts Kristy's chin gently. "You know, we'll still have time to ourselves," she says. "Not everything will change."

Kristy smiles. "I know," she says.

Elizabeth kisses the top of her head again and turns towards the mirror to fix her mascara.

"You know what, Mom?" Kristy asks after a moment, watching her mother in the mirror.

"What?" Elizabeth asks.

"I think if Dad saw us all here today, he'd realise leaving us was the biggest mistake ever." Kristy lifts her chin and her eyes spark. "I mean, look at us..." She smiles proudly, and Elizabeth smiles back at her.

"Yeah," she says with a grin. "Look at us."

* * *

Elizabeth walks down the aisle towards Watson with no fear at all. She smiles at him, and he takes her hand and whispers something she can't quite hear over the fading bridal music. She smiles anyway, because whatever he said sounded sweet and soft.

When Watson puts the ring on Elizabeth's finger, Elizabeth can see Mary Anne out of the corner of her eye, tear-streaked and misty-eyed.

When Watson and Elizabeth kiss, and their friends and family cheer and clap, Elizabeth turns and finds Richard smiling at her. She grins back at him and Watson takes her hand again and leads her back down the aisle, the rings glimmering on their fingers.

* * *

Elizabeth stands in shadow at the edge of the dance floor, her feet aching and her face sore from smiling all day. She stands alone and watches Watson spin past with her mother, both of them going far too fast for the music, red-faced and laughing. She watches Sam shuffling awkwardly with Stacey McGill, who looks dreamy and breathless.

She watches Mary Anne and Kristy playing Red Light, Green Light further out on the lawn with Elizabeth's nieces and nephews. She watches Charlie sit beside David Michael at a table scattered with confetti and empty glasses, and smiles when David Michael droops tiredly against his older brother, even as he protests how exhausted he is.

"Are you lurking in the shadows for a reason?"

Elizabeth looks up as Richard stands beside her. He smiles down at her, and she smiles back at him.

"I'm not lurking," she says. "That makes me sound sinister."

Richard chuckles and he takes her hand. "Come and dance with me," he says.

She follows him to the edge of the dance floor. Watson spins past with her mother again, and he winks at her. She grins at him before she puts her hand on Richard's shoulder.

"You're not going to tread on my feet, are you?" she asks. "Sam spent less time on the floor than he did on my toes, and I'm not sure I can take another round of that."

Richard chuckles and puts his arm around her waist. "I don't think so," he says. "Though it's been a long time since I danced with anybody."

Elizabeth smiles up at him. "I'm going to miss you," she whispers.

"I'm sure Mary Anne will be a frequent visitor," Richard answers softly. "We'll see each other."

"I hope so." Elizabeth slides her hand further up on his shoulder. "Sometimes, though, it'll be too hard to cross town." She smiles at him. "You'll have to have coffee with Sharon, on those days."

He laughs. "Will I?"

"Mm," Elizabeth sighs. "Promise me you will," she says. "Don't sit alone in your kitchen with my empty chair and coffee mug."

Richard laughs again. "I won't." He squeezes her hand gently. "I'll miss you, too," he says. "Who's going to tell me when the girls are arguing, or what to do when Mary Anne shouts at me?"

"Mary Anne doesn't shout," Elizabeth murmurs.

"See?" Richard sighs. "Correcting me again."

Elizabeth laughs and twirls slowly beneath his arm. "We were both alone for so long," she says. "But look at everything we did. We should be proud of ourselves, Richard."

He smiles at her and catches her hand again. The song has changed, but neither of them stop.

"We have a lot to be proud of," Richard agrees. "I'm sure there's more to come, yet."

Elizabeth catches sight of Sharon, her arm around Dawn, laughing at something Dee Pike has just said.

"Lots more," Elizabeth agrees. She holds his hand tightly and tilts her head. "I'm going to stop by Bradford Court sometimes," she says, "and sit on the front porch with you. Is that okay?"

"I could live with that," Richard answers.

"And I want you to keep the green mug for me when I come by."

"Nobody else shall have the green mug," Richard promises solemnly.

Elizabeth smiles. They dance slowly, watching other people drift past them.

"Happy?" Richard asks softly.

"I really am," she breathes. She smiles up at him. "And you, Richard? Are you happy?"

"Yes," Richard answers quietly, smiling back at her. "Very happy, thank you, Edie."

  



End file.
